i can do better
by ifonly13
Summary: She already feels like a prisoner and she wants out. :: Based on a story from Humans of New York.
"I don't need protection," she insists again, standing in the hall of the hotel with her weekender bag as Esposito clears the room. "I'm perfectly capable of-"

"Beckett, someone blew up your apartment," Ryan hisses, waiting until Espo nods to him from inside the hotel room before he gestures her in.

Esposito shuts and locks the door behind the three of them, holstering his gun as he says, "Deputy Commissioner says you get a twenty-four seven detail and I'm not about to go against Gates on this. So settle in and Ryan and I will be right next door."

Because it's not bad enough that her apartment exploded around her but she now has to sleep in a connecting room with her unnecessary protection detail until they catch the guy who has targeted her.

"Yeah, yeah," she sighs, placing her bag onto the bed and unzipping it. "See you both in the morning."

The connecting door clicks shut and Beckett follows behind to lock her side of the room.

She doesn't want to unpack, doesn't want to put her clothes in the drawers and hang her blouses in the closet. She doesn't want to make this a home.

Beckett sits on the edge of the bed, her head falling forward into her hands. Her apartment blew up.

She doesn't have blouses to hang up or underwear to tuck into the top drawer of the bureau or any of her makeup to clutter up the bathroom counters.

She doesn't have a home.

A sob catches in her throat, the nausea rising up fast so that she ends up stumbling toward the bathroom. Her knees bruise when they hit the tile floor as she vomits. She gives herself a moment to wallow, her cheek pressed to the cool porcelain before she shakily gets to her feet, flushes the toilet, and rinses out her mouth.

Kate opens her weekender bag and fishes out the few items she was able to save from the burnt shell of her apartment. A handful of sentimental books with singed pages go on the bureau next to the television; a framed print of a dragonfly that she places on the wobbly writing desk in the corner; and her mother's old jewelry box with her father's watch, the face splintered from the blast, and the symbols of her profession nestled protectively together goes beside the alarm clock.

The mattress is too soft under her as she flops onto the bed and stares at the ceiling.

She already feels like a prisoner and she wants out.

So she rocks back onto her feet and grabs her phone and wallet on her way to the door. With her hand on the knob, Kate hesitates before turning back and snagging her badge and gun. Just in case, she reminds herself as she quietly opens the door and closes it behind her.

Esposito and Ryan don't appear in the hallway as she sneaks down the worn carpeting toward the elevator, pressing the button for the lobby.

Kate walks a couple of blocks until she finds a quiet bar to duck into. Only a few people populate the dark room and none of them look up when she slides onto a stool.

"What can I get ya?" the young woman behind the bar asks as she places a square napkin in front of Kate.

"Double whisky, neat," she responds. The order draws a glance from a man at the end of the bartop who appears to be nursing a similar drink.

A minute later, the tumbler appears on her napkin and she takes a sip, letting the alcohol burn down her throat. It's comforting.

"Rough night?"

Kate looks over and finds the man has moved closer, next to her now rather than at the other end of the stretch of the bar. His face seems faintly familiar but after the past twelve hours, she doesn't have the energy to try and place it.

"You could say that," Kate murmurs, nodding to his drink. "You're having one too, it seems."

He laughs, lifting his glass of scotch. "A couple of them." He leans in, his hand outstretched. "I'm Rick."

She hesitates for a moment before taking his hand. "Kate." He grins, as if pleased that he was able to get a name out of her so quickly and it makes the corners of her own mouth rise in return. "So, what has you drinking alone tonight?"

"My daughter," he sighs, leaning his elbow on the bar. "Moved her into college today and I'm indulging in some heavy self-pity with my now-empty home. What's your excuse?"

"My apartment blew up."

Rick chuckles, a short burst of laughter that makes the few other patrons turn their heads. "Well, Kate, you win."

She only meant to escape the confines of her hotel room for maybe half an hour - go get a drink and not feel like the world was crumbling around her like her apartment did - but Rick is amusing and funny and instead of wallowing in the grief, he makes her laugh with stories about his family and an escapade involving a police horse and a lack of clothing on his part.

When he mentions a book tour that lead to his mother throwing a huge party in his apartment, she figures out where she's seen his face and it makes her swallow hard, tightening her grip on her glass as he laughs about the clean-up effort.

After their fourth drink, Kate chances a look at her phone and finds a stream of text messages from the boys, their tone decidedly angry and worried.

"Listen," she says, digging for cash to cover her tab in her wallet, "I need to get back to my hotel room before my team releases the National Guard to find me."

Rick follows her after paying for his own tab. "Let me walk you back," he says when he catches up to her.

"You really don't have to," Kate insists, the thought that someone is out to kill her not far from her mind mingled with the fact that she doesn't really know Rick. "I'm a cop; I can get myself back up the block."

He stutters to a halt behind her, grabbing her elbow to stop her. "You're a cop?" When she nods, Rick's jaw drops. "That is so hot."

She feels her cheeks flush a little at that, shaking her head. "Yeah, so I'm good to walk just around the corner."

Rick spends the rest of the walk bombarding her with questions about her line of work, his hand constantly glancing off her arm as if keeping track of her in the late evening foot traffic, until she pauses outside the doors of the hotel. She can see Esposito glaring at her through the glass, his phone in his hand as he probably updates Ryan.

"I want to see you again," he blurts out. "Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow."

"I don't think that's the best-"

He snags her hand, pulling her closer and in the lobby, she sees Espo's hand drift to his gun. "I liked talking to you, Kate."

She sighs, letting her fingers curl a little in his palm. Dating hasn't gone well since she made captain a year ago; the men don't understand her near-fanatic dedication to her job, the fact that they will almost always come second to the victim on her desk.

But maybe her apartment exploding was a sign from the universe that she should start over with a slate wiped clean.

"Sure," Kate responds to his puppy-dog-eager look. "You can take me to dinner."

"Yeah? Okay, I mean, yeah," he babbles. "Where's your phone? I'll put my number in."

They trade phones to type their numbers into the other's phone before handing them back.

He grins, looking nothing like the forlorn man she met in the bar. "I'll text you with details, okay?"

"Sounds good," Kate says, turning toward the doors. "Better get back in before my detective has a fit."

"Stay safe, Kate."

Once she steps into the lobby, Esposito starts in on her.

"You were supposed to stay put, Captain," he hisses as she strides toward the elevators. "What part of that didn't you understand?"

She rolls her eyes when he hits the button for their floor. "Chill. I can protect myself."

After reassuring Espo that she won't make a prison break again, she changes into her pajamas and curls up in the bed, the unfamiliar sheets scratchy against her legs. And it's not the fear of a serial killer that keeps her tossing and turning all night ━

It's the thought of going on a date tomorrow night with Richard Castle.

* * *

She gets the text from him in the middle of a brainstorm session with the boys in front of the whiteboard, her phone vibrating on her desk since the only spare clothes she owns now are a pair of yoga pants and a tight tank for her sparring workouts. It's not exactly the ideal look for a precinct captain. He asks if he can pick her up at the hotel, refuses to tell her where he's taking her other than that the dress code is casual.

Kate excuses herself from the duo, getting halfway to the elevator with her wallet before Ryan catches her.

"Where you goin'?" he shouts, pulling Esposito along with him.

She lies smoothly, telling them that Lanie found something and she promises to call them when she reaches the morgue in order to keep them from tailing her. And as she pulls out of the parking spot in front of the building and starts toward the city morgue, she reminds herself that it isn't a complete lie; she just needs Lanie's help finding clothes for tonight that aren't from her work locker.

The medical examiner nearly drops the liver she's weighing when Kate tells her that she has a date and needs help.

"You have a date?" Lanie exclaims, ripping her stained gloves off and tossing them in the garbage before grabbing her purse from the shared office. "Girl, we need to get you clothes!"

Kate gets dragged to a nearby store and shoved into a fitting room with an armful of options as she interrogates Kate about the mystery man. She tells her his first name but refuses any more information as she changes back into her own clothes after the marathon try-on session. Lanie wants her to keep shopping, insisting that she has to replace her wardrobe anyway but Kate cuts her off.

"I don't need everything right now, Lane," she says, handing the unnecessary items back to the sales associate. "Just enough to get by for a little."

"You've got three pairs of pants, some jeans, a couple of blouses, and a blazer. That's boring."

"Boring and work appropriate," Kate insists as she swipes her card to pay. "Besides, I can wear some of it for tonight."

Lanie shakes her head, taking one of the bags from the counter. "Gotta put some effort in or this Rick guy is gonna bolt. You can't show up in a power suit and expect him to want a second date."

"I've got…"

"No. Work clothes won't work. I mean, don't get me wrong, you look good in your blazers and all but you need date clothes." When Kate glares at her, Lanie rolls her eyes. "Fine. You stay here and I'm gonna find you clothes that make that man drool."

Kate groans but lets her friend turn into another shop with the promise that she won't go further than the Starbucks at the corner. She settles in with a latte, scrolling through the updates on her phone from her team as they run down leads into her apartment bombing.

By the time Lanie reappears with another bag in her hand, Kate is just finishing off her drink.

"What'd you find?" she asks as Lanie pulls her back onto the sidewalk toward the unmarked cruiser.

"Nope," the medical examiner responds as she keeps the bag out of reach. "You don't get to look at this until you're at the hotel and I'm helping you get ready."

"You're not gonna-"

Lanie buckles into the passenger seat. "I am. You haven't gone on a date in at least a year, Kate. You're gonna need help."

They swing by the precinct after trudging uptown in rush hour's stop-and-go traffic. The boys finish up the last of their paperwork for the day and join Kate and Lanie for the trip to the hotel. After Ryan and Esposito clear her room, Lanie pushes her ahead.

"Go shower quick while I get stuff together," Lanie insists, shoving her toward the bathroom.

Kate groans but follows her friend's instructions, washing her hair and shaving quickly. The blow dryer gives her a couple minutes of issue before she manages to get her hair dried and twisted up into a messy bun. With the towel wrapped around her torso, the end tucked under her armpit to keep it up, she hesitantly steps back into the room to find Lanie cross-legged on the bed, flipping through TV channels.

"What'd you figure out for me?"

Lanie grins, gesturing to the other bed in the room. "Think you'll be happy."

She takes a deep breath before looking at the clothes on the bedspread and feels the tension melt out of her body.

A pair of the dark skinny jeans Kate bought herself with a new soft t-shirt that has a v-neck just low enough to hint at some cleavage, a pretty scarf coiled on top of the fabric. Kate reaches out, touching the buttery soft leather jacket as if it might disappear before her eyes.

"You… Lanie, you shouldn't have bought…" she stutters.

Her friend gets off the bed, leaving the remote behind in order to pull Kate into a fierce hug. "Shut up. You need that jacket. You're not Beckett without one." Lanie gently pushes Kate back. "Now get dressed, chica. Got a man to impress."

* * *

Kate feels a little bit invincible all through dinner in her heels and leather jacket, a boost she needs when sitting across from Rick Castle over a meal of really good British pub food. He's funny, something she never got from his interviews or the book signings she won't admit to attending. He listens - actually listens - when she talks about her weirdest case, his eyes focused on her and not the plate of cottage pie in front of him or his phone screen.

He makes her forget that Ryan and Esposito are sitting in a booth across from them, keeping their eyes on their boss's date like overbearing fathers.

When the bill comes, he slips his card into the folder and hands it back to their waiter before Kate can protest.

"I want to pay, Kate," he insists, reaching across the table for another bite of her bread pudding.

She scowls, knocking at his spoon with her own until he turns it into a swordfight over the last bit of dessert. "I can split it with you though."

"Your apartment blew up," he reminds her, taking the folder back, sliding his card back into his wallet, and scrawling his name across the payment slip. "Save the money for furniture or clothes or books."

He walks with her back to the hotel, insists on following her up to her room to make sure she gets back alright. Kate ignores the looks from the boys as they ride up in the elevator until they pause outside her door to make sure the room is clear.

"So," he starts before she cuts him off.

"I couldn't save your books," she murmurs.

"Mine?" She gets to watch as the realization dawns on his face, his mouth quirking up. "You know who I am?"

"Yeah. I mean, I recognized you at the bar but that's not why I agreed to dinner," she says quickly, trying to reassure him of her intentions.

He glances at Ryan and Esposito before looking back to her. "Why then?"

Kate swallows, looks up at him, and speaks. "You made me laugh. You made me forget for a while that I don't have a home. You didn't let me wallow. But mostly the laughter," she admits, shaking her head. "I haven't laughed like that in years and you did it in a single night. Figured it was worth a shot."

"I'm glad you took the chance," Rick responds, smiling once more.

She doesn't give him a chance to protest before she steps into his space, leans up, and gently presses her lips to his. The kiss lasts barely a moment before Ryan clears his throat and Rick steps back.

Kate's forehead falls to his chest for a second before she glances up at him. "This is the most awkward kiss I've had since middle school."

He laughs, brushing her hair back from her shoulder. "Middle school? Early bloomer, were we?"

She shoves his shoulder, giggling when he grabs for her hand for balance. "Thank you, Rick. Dinner was lovely."

"When can I see you again?"

"Soon," she promises. "As soon as I can walk around without these two hanging over my shoulder," she says, gesturing to the boys standing in the hall. "Promise."

He touches his mouth to her cheek in a goodbye, waves to her body guards, and winks at her as he gets on the elevator, disappearing from sight.

She feels electric, like she's vibrating from the high of a date that didn't end in disaster as she tells the boys to get some sleep and steps into her own room.

But instead of changing into her pajamas and trying to sleep, Kate pulls out her laptop, logs into the city database, and runs a quick search.

* * *

It takes her another hour to be sure she won't be caught sneaking out of her room, well aware that one of the boys will be on high alert after her first escape attempt.

The subway drops her a couple blocks from the building and she walks up the street toward the pretty brick building at the intersection. She talks her way past the doorman, unashamedly flashing her badge to stop him from calling upstairs to clear her as a guest, and climbs the stairs to the fourth floor.

She knocks on the bright red door, waiting, hoping for it to open. When it does, she finds Rick already changed, in a pair of worn flannel pants and a t-shirt instead of his jeans and well-cut jacket.

"Kate," he gasps, blinking as if she's a figment of his imagination.

"I can do better," she says.

She moves in, her hands framing his face as she kisses him hard, making him stumble back from the force of it. Then his hands are at her back, pulling her in close as his fingers tangle in her wind-swept hair.

He hums, his mouth at her temple as he tugs her into the apartment, kicking the door closed behind them. "Much, much better."

* * *

She wakes to a screen full of texts and voicemails demanding to know where she is but Kate turns the phone off, drops it back on the bedside table, and tucks herself closer to the still-sleeping author at her side.


End file.
